


When did you fall for me?

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [53]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x4 missing scene, Brienne has other plans for him, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jaime is insecure, Season 8, post TBTWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 10:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19886254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Jaime wonders if he is worthy of Brienne, and she convinces him in her own way that he is.





	When did you fall for me?

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt to explain the brooding stare at the ceiling post the bang that made so many people think he regretted sleeping with her.  
> Pointless fluff and smut, because I really can't help repeatedly getting these two together.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

_I am yours, Jaime,_ she had declared, crying out his name and erupting into fits of bliss when he had taken her on a journey to the stars. 

Brienne had fallen asleep soon after their glorious union, but Jaime found little success, anxiety taking over once the euphoria of their passion had died down. Sleepless and restless, he’d taken to his thoughts, his mind travelling from the ecstasy that he’d finally become one with the woman of his dreams, to disbelief that last night had really happened and finally an ominous sense of insecurity, a gripping fear as he pictured Cersei’s reaction should the news of the development between him and Brienne reach her ears. While the wench was safe in the North, as far as his sister’s enemies were concerned, nowhere was completely safe, and no one who crossed her path could live in peace as long as her heart was full of spite for them.

Such was the risk Brienne ran, and all he could do was engage in a silent conversation with the walls, hoping they might provide some solace to the mounting unrest in his mind. He sighed, shifting his gaze from the ceiling he’d been staring at for a while to the woman beside him, deep in peaceful slumber, blissfully unaware of the storm that engulfed him.

She let out a low moan, the sweetness in her melodious voice distracting him for the hundredth time since he’d arrived here, breaking him free of the shackles of his fears. “Oh, Jaime,” she whimpered in her sleep, stretching her arms as if to reach out for him, “I love you so much.”

His heart melted, her words transporting him into an entirely different level of happiness. Cersei could be dealt with later, his worries could wait along with everything else that wasn’t Brienne. At no cost could he let this beautiful night slip away. Certainly not without telling her how he felt about her. 

Shuffling to her side, he slipped his arm around her waist, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on her soft skin, tickling her into consciousness. “How much?” he murmured into her ear, nuzzling her neck.

She responded beautifully to his touch, like a flower to a bee, and her eyelids fluttered open, giving him yet another glimpse of those astonishing eyes as she tilted her face slightly to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?” she asked, the confusion in her gorgeous eyes telling him that she was oblivious of the confession she’d let slip in her sleep.

Jaime shifted closer until his chest pushed into her back, leaving no gap between their warm naked bodies, and no scope for anything, not even the air around them to get in their way. “You just told me that you love me, wench.” He gently nipped at her earlobe, and she delightfully squirmed, her reaction sending a wave of shock to his groin. “How much do you love me?”

“When did I say that?” she purred, turning her head to take a proper look at him, blue eyes dancing with mischief.

“When, exactly, did you fall for me?” He came to the point that mattered, ignoring her fake ignorance, as he snaked his hand up her ribs to cradle her breast.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips when he tugged at her nipple, and she shuddered, her back arching into him, setting his cock on fire. “Why don’t you make a guess?” she teased, putting on an innocent tone.

The next moment, he turned her over and she was on her back, pinned tightly to the bed, her body held in place with his as he climbed on her. “Harrenhal,” he said, bending so close that their lips were barely apart, “the bath tub. You were staring, full of lust and yearning for me.”

She flushed, her body a shade of red so deep, that it would’ve put the beauty of the setting sun to shame. “I wasn’t--” he could feel the heat of her breath on his face, the effect of it making its way to his cock “--staring.” She bit her lip, her chest heaving, her face and her arousal instantly calling out her lie.

“You were,” he insisted, growing harder when he recalled the memory, “and so was I.”

“You couldn’t have wanted me then,” she said, her voice unnaturally hoarse, and her resistance gradually waning as his lips teased hers, “you thought I was ugly--”

“I was an idiot.” He claimed her lips, his kiss furious and urgent. “I’ve been an idiot all these years,” he went on, pulling away before she could reach out to him and respond, “until last night, until I realized how much I--” He paused, deciding to act rather than talk, sucking and slaying her lips with little bites and kisses, whilst trying to pluck up the courage to tell her what he’d been longing to confess for ages. 

When he released her to breathe between one of their fiery kisses, she caught his eye in an arresting gaze, seizing an opportunity to speak before he launched another onslaught of kisses on her mouth. “What were you about to say?” she asked, when he wondered how to put his feelings into words.

This was it, this was the moment, and he could wait no more. “I love you, Brienne,” he said, a sense of urgency overshadowing every other emotion within him, “I love you so much that hurts me whenever I wonder if I’m worthy of you, if I can give you the life--”

She shut him up with her mouth, her tongue engaging in a sensual power struggle with his. “Never--” she withdrew to take in some air before taking control of his lips again “--ever let that thought enter your head again,” she gently scolded him, running her fingers through his beard as her mouth put up a valiant fight against his.

They exchanged a few more scorching kisses, her lips proving to be an able distraction for the negativity in him, but not for long, for the distressing thoughts were back when she let go of him. “I’m the Kingslayer--” he began, unable to shake off his dark past.

“You _were,_ ” Brienne corrected him with yet another kiss, her hands sliding down his chest and to his stomach, “but not anymore.” 

“My reputation is tainted,” he tried to argue, his voice getting huskier and his arousal unbearable when she came to a halt between his legs.

“Not anymore,” she breathed, her mouth leaving his, only to settle just above his heart, “not after you jumped into that pit for me.”

Jaime wanted to answer her, but her hands prevented him from thinking, and all he could do was surrender to the sweet agony she was subjecting him to, when she gripped his cock. He groaned helplessly, his hips grinding into hers when she caressed his length, her fingers having their way with him, bringing him dangerously close to an explosive end. “I didn’t realize it then, but that’s when I fell for you, Jaime,” she admitted, kissing the damp hair on his chest, “when you returned for me.” She began stroking him harder, and he paid her back in her own coin by tormenting her in return, squeezing her breast and punishing her nipple. “When you put yourself before me,” she went on, her words interspersed with grunts and moans, “you became the one I trusted the most.”

“Allow me to be yours then,” he asked of her, jerking away for fear of coming apart in her hands, “allow me to live up to your trust.” He captured her mouth again, torturing her with wild and aggressive kisses. Her lips were sore and battered, yet they begged to be kissed endlessly, aching for his mouth to do them justice. “Be mine, Brienne,” he roared, sinking into her for the second time that night, his cock seeking refuge in the burning wetness of her core, “forever, until death tears us apart.” 

“ _Jaime!_ ” 

She sighed, she moaned, she gasped and she screamed, punctuating every thrust and every kiss he bestowed upon her with a cry of his name. Her eyelids, half-shut, as she repeatedly took him on, the blistering passion within her sent him pounding harder, while her lips, swollen and asking to be punished repeatedly, made him plunge deeper into her mouth, his tongue reaching out for the remotest crevices no man had ever explored before. She kept shouting his name, her body drenched in sweat as he went on, stroke after stroke, each time going farther than he had before.

“Allow me to give you the world, Brienne,” he rasped, his lips seeking hers for the millionth time that night, “allow me to become one with the love of my life.” 

He continued to kiss the hell out of her while he fucked her hard, his moves going from slow and gently paced to frantic and desperate, and she met him with equal passion, taking everything he offered her, and offering herself to him in return.

“I am yours,” she told him for the second time that night, melting into his arms, her body settling down, slowly coming back to normal when the tremors, the result of her blazing climax, died down. “My body, my heart, my soul and myself--” she kissed him softly, pulling him into her “--it’s all yours, Jaime.”

“Fuck the world,” he shouted, slamming harder into her as he neared his end, “fuck everything that isn’t us. You’re the missing piece of my life,” he confessed, pushing towards his climax. He deepened the kiss, devouring her mouth again as he found his release within her. “Allow me to spend the rest of my life with you, Brienne, for nothing would be sweeter than a life with you and a death in your arms,” he moaned into her lips as his cock slackened inside her, the feeling more satisfying than anything he’d ever experienced. “Marry me, Brienne of Tarth, be my wife.”

They let themselves calm down, lost in each other for a while, two bodies but one in every other way. And then, Brienne smiled, her answer evident in her eyes and the glow on her face. “When, exactly, did you fall for me, Jaime?” she asked him this time, playfully ruffling his hair.

Jaime thought for a second. “When you first called me Ser Jaime,” he said, only now realizing that this was the turning point of his life, “when I stopped being the oathbreaker and became the oathkeeper in your eyes.”

She pulled him in for another kiss. “Was that why you came back for me?”

“I don’t know,” he told her, savouring the feel of her skin on his, “all I know is that I love you.”

“It took you quite a while to realize that,” she remarked, rubbing the tip of her nose against his, “thankfully, it isn’t too late--”

Jaime silenced her with his lips. “I’m a slow learner, wench,” he teased, fondly tapping the bridge of her nose with his forefinger when he let go of her, “but I learn.”


End file.
